A Little Bit of Loony for the Lonely
by aliform
Summary: Draco finds himself unwilling to free himself from his self-proclaimed house arrest. Maybe a little bit of motivation from our favorite 'Loony' will do him some good. Rated T for safety. DracoxLuna.
1. Glarfull Blasters and Bloodshot Eyes

**AN: Okay, never written an HP fanfiction, but here goes.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but I sure do own Draco Malfoy.**

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**Draco Malfoy splashed some of the slowly cooling water onto his thigh. How long had he been sitting there? An hour? Two? It didn't really matter, and he didn't care.

"I should be getting out though," he thought grudgingly, and groped around the bottom of the ceramic tub for the snake head plug. Once the water was draining, he stepped out onto the black-tiled floor and pulled a towel around his waist. Draco was tired, but not in the way that just a nap would fix. Although, a nap would do him good, he barely slept. No, Draco was mentally exhausted. His parents were in Azkaban for an 'indefinite amount of time.' He was put on house arrest for six-months, but that had ended about a year ago, but he was still in the house and with no sign of leaving any time soon. Once his time had ended, he didn't know where to go, so just had his pair of house elves run errands for him and prepare his meals. Sometimes he would find himself getting ready to go out. He would put on his coat, tie is shoes, but as soon as he was past the gate, he asked himself where he was going. Then he would turn around, slam the gate behind him and storm upstairs and sit in his bathtub of scalding hot water until it was luke warm.

Draco Malfoy was lonely.

He dressed himself and went down the stairs.

"Should Quibby and Preeny prepare Master's meal tonight?" asked the young house-elf Quibby.

He turned to look at her. "No," he said.

Quibby bowed, "Yes, Master, even though Quibby and Preeny believe that Master needs to eat much more often, Quibby will obey."

Draco scowled, their accuracy made him angry. "It's not your place to express what you believe," he said coldy, then quickly regretted it when the house-elf went into hysteria, beating her head on the walls and yelling words of apology, making his head scream out in protest. Instead of reprimanding the elf, he went into the next room.

The Malfoy Manor was huge. Much to large of a house for just one person, he thought, but didn't know exactly what he should do about it. The room he had entered was on the east side of the house, so he could avoid the blinding rays of the sun setting. He stared out at the stars, but then they annoyed him, so he (rather violently) tugged the curtain to cover up the window. Too violently- he decided- when the worn black fabric tore at the seam holding it to the curtain rod, and the translucent material collapsed to the ebony floors. He sat down, and put up with the stars that speckled the sky. He couldn't decide what they represented that aggravated him so much... Maybe the so many other people out there that were living happy, full lives right now, leaving him in the shadow of his mansion. Or maybe the memory of the Dark Mark staining a very similar star-speckled sky over so many of the crimes he wished he hadn't commited.

He groaned, the sky bothering him even more. If one could 'slam' their eyes closed, that's exactly what he would have done, but he did as best he could. He couldn't bear to look outside anymore with the all too familiar memory stabbing at his conscience. He knew why they didn't lock him up with his parents, living alone with his memories was worse than having his soul taken away by dementors. Slowly and painstakingly his body relaxed, and he drifted off...

_He was in a room. He knew this room, it was the dining room in his very own home... There was a body rotating slowly over the table, as if tied up by their ankle to the ceiling with an invisible rope. He couldn't take his eyes off the person, even though something told him he shouldn't be looking. There were other people, and he had a slight unease in his stomach about their presence. And then he heard his name. And he turned to make contact with two red, snake like eyes._

Draco awoke to the sun rising, blinding his sweating face. He rushed to the bathroom, eager to get out of the light. After dousing his face with water, he caught his reflection in the mirror... His face was sickly pale, and fatigued eyes sunken into his hollowed out face... His cheekbones were raised, making his malnourished face look _almost snakelike..._ Briefly he saw red eyes in the place of his, and the misery consumed him.

He shuddered at the image, terrified of the meaning behind it. His eyes burned and overflowed, drowning his vision and his hope. His bottom lip quivered even as he clenched his jaw to keep it in place. Catching his blurred image in the mirror once more, memories pounded themselves into him, and his left arm burned like it did the first time he was christened a Death Eater. A fire that he so desperately wanted to put out, he wanted to drown himself, if only to put out this fire... To get rid of those awful memories. He kept telling himself that if he could go back, he would do it all differently, but the tears kept coming and the visions kept pounding at the inside of his head. He started the sink up again, shoving the tattoo under the freezing water, and suddenly he remembered dementors... How even when they were on your side they made you feel miserable... He wondered if it was possible one of them was nearby and had caused this, but then he saw his reflection again, and the horrible illusion still lingered.

"No! No!" he yelled, hot and frustrated tears running down his cheeks. His whole body let out a violent shudder, and the water was just making his sweating body colder. But the fire on his arm raged. _Why? He's dead! _He raised his arm to the glass, pounding it into the smooth surface time and time again, sending painful shards into his hand. When the door bell rang, he continued with his tantrum, blood and tears flying in every direction. Then it rang again and he stopped. The shivering stopped. He spared a glance at the Dark Mark branded in his arm to see that it was not moving, and realized that it never had been. Quickly he turned off the water and did a couple half hearted charms on his hand to get rid of the painful glass pieces that were lodged into his arm and to hurry up the healing process, but did nothing for the redness around his eyes, and then he was opening the door.

What greeted him was just about the last thing he expected. Well, actually, he had no idea what he expected in the first place, but what he saw before him was definitely not in the range of what he thought possible. Luna Lovegood had grown up, and maturity had treated her well. Her face had elongated, making her once awkward and tacky appearance seem oddly elegant. Her hair had grown out, and what used to be her bangs now framed her face, teasing the tops of her shoulders. She had ditched the radishes and the other odd accessories that she used to wear, though she did wear a strangely three dimensional headband, but Malfoy knew better than to ask questions.

"Hi," he said, realizing that he knew next to nothing about socialization after his year and a half of isolation. "Come in," he commanded, and then winced at the hardness of his voice, making a mental note to soften it next time.

She smiled, her eyes puncturing his with contact. "Hello! I didn't know that you lived here, and I have to say, the peacocks are a nice touch."

He gave her a confused look, "Peacocks?"

Her smile didn't waver, "Yeah, the ones tethered out by your front gate.

Then he remembered. His father had purchased them a couple years ago, to his mothers protest. Everybody else they were associated with seemed to share her belief that they were completely gaudy. "Oh," he said, still confused, "They're still alive?"

She nodded, stepping into the mansion.

"Hm..." he said, avoiding her eyes, "I suppose the house elves have been tending to them or something."

She smiled again. _Why does she keep smiling?_ "Well, something has."

He closed the door, and then an all new wave of confusion hit him. _What the bloody hell was Loony Lovegood doing in his house?_ "Why are you here?" he snapped (unintentionally) once again, his voice far more sharp than he intended.

He expected her to flinch, but he decided that she was probably used to people snapping at her when she continued to smile. "Oh, well," she gestured to the stack of the latest edition of the Quibbler that she had been carrying.

"Oh," he said. He hadn't even noticed that she was carrying them before.

She cocked her head to the side, "Have you been crying?"

He brought his hand to his eyes, forgetting that Luna had a way of being uncomfortably blunt. "Uh..." he hesitated, "No..."

She nodded in an understanding way, once again confusing Draco. "Must be the Glarfull Blasters in here," she said.

He shot her a look, not attempting to soften his voice this time, "What the bloody hell are those?"

She smiled again, "That brings me back to the reason I was originally here," she pulled a new shiny edition of the Quibbler with the picture of a moving, translucent fox-like creature zipping around the page, and the title "Explore the Mystery of the Glarfull Blasters: New Discovery!" gaudily printed below, and the normal title "The Quibbler" at the top. "There's an article about them in it. Basically, they enter your body through your ears and mess with your dreams, and then crawl out through your eyes. I hear it can be quite painful."

At dreams, he flinched. "Oh."

"Would you like one? I could sell you one with a discount if you'd like," she beamed. He decided that her smiling wasn't so bad after all. It made him almost want to smile back at her, just so she would smile back at him a little longer. Mentally he kicked himself at this thought, telling himself that he only got this reaction because it was the first person that he'd had humane contact with in over a year.

He shrugged, "Why not," he said. "Preeny! Pay 'er." An older house elf shuffled into the room and handed Luna a couple coins, which she stashed into a pouch that hung by a chord around her waist.

He migrated back into the east room without thinking to invite her to follow, but she assumed that she could. He sat on the same couch he had slept on that night, and avoided thinking of dreams or anything of the sort when she sat down across from him. Her eyes were narrowed and she examined his face, "Are you sure that you weren't crying?"

Something flashed across his face just before he nodded, but she couldn't tell what.

"You must have a Glarfull Blasters infestation or something to get eyes that red though... Hm... Have you been having funny dreams?" she said.

He shifted his weight, looking at the floor. He cleared his voice, "Yeah. I have."

She nodded, "Thought so... I better give you some Glooble Weed. As soon as possible too."

He shot her a You-Are-Extremely-Crazy-Look.

She smiled again, and his heart lifted ever so slightly. "It will repel them. Hopefully without hurting them, we aren't really sure what it does to them yet, but somehow it makes them dislike the territory... Well, dislike isn't the right word," she stared off into space, "It gets rid of them though."

He nodded, "Okay." He still didn't know why he had even let her in his door, but decided to not protest another visit. He could do with some good old human contact.

"I'll drop by tomorrow if I can. I can help you set it up if you'd like." she said.

Once again, he nodded, "Sure. I'll be here."

She smiled, "Okay, well, I'd better get going then, I need to finish this route."

He nodded, the temporary lifting of heart wearing off. "See you."

And then she left.

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**AN: Not much of a cliffhanger there, eh? Well anyways, I have the other chapters all finished and typed up, and they shall be posted in due time, so be patient, dearies. I'm hoping that they aren't too out of character...  
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**I love all my readers, but I love my reviewers more.**

**(Reviewers get their profiles checked out more often than not...)**


	2. Even Harry Potter

**AN: Quick update, no? I guess it helps that I had finished it before I started posting it though. Anyways, REVIEWREVIEWREVIEW and I shall love you forever**

**Disclaimer: I own only Glarfull Blasters and whatever the name of that herb thing Luna is bringing...**

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_Review: "I'll drop by tommorow if I can. I can help you set it up if you'd like." she said._

Once again, he nodded, "Sure. I'll be here."

She smiled, "Okay, well, I'd better get going then, I need to finish this route."

He nodded, the temporary lifting of heart wearing off. "See you."

And then she left.

* * *

The next day, he took a bath, like every day. Although this time, he found himself pulling on his bath robe every time he heard a noise from downstairs. One time he was _sure_ he had heard a knock, he sprinted down. When asked if everything was okay by Quibby, he hesitated. "Uh... Yeah, just expecting somebody."

The elf nodded, "I will answer the door if heard, Master. If you would like, I can retrieve you from your bathing at that time," she said all too enthusiastically with a bow.

He nodded, "Do that," and then he returned to his bath, calmed by the assurance that he would not leave his guest on his doorstep. His reflection in the mirror was not nearly as haunting as it was the day before, he noticed to himself as he slid into the tub again. He was still too skinny, the vertebrae in his back each protruding from his almost translucent flesh, and his ribs each clearly visible like his skeleton was too large for his skin. He sighed, the hot water calming him. With his index finger, he traced the veins in his hands, finding this action rather disturbing and strange, but oddly calming. He found that after Luna's visit, he didn't hate himself so much anymore. He didn't feel ashamed for his family, or guilt for his actions. He was still haunted by them at night, often awaking from the horrifying images and feelings of being tortured and even worse- the images of himself killing and torturing the innocent, but still tried to get as much sleep as he could. His expression was less intense, and the bags around his eyes not carved in as deep.

Then he remembered what the house elf had said... _Is everything okay?_ Was it? He had always been an exceptional wizard. He had never cared about his victims... He had always been able to pin point the weak spot of people, and been able to flawlessly utilize it to his advantage every single time that he found necessary. He still, out of habit, carried his wand with him all the time, although he hadn't used it for ages. When he had tried to use magic, his spells had been weak and felt unfamiliar, like the wand was not his (even after purchasing a new one that 'chose' him.) And memories wouldn't leave him alone. If he wasn't dreaming about them, he was thinking about them. About the electric and overwhelming pain of the Cruciatis Curse and about the all too _satisfying_ feeling of seeing someone else scream from pain that you were causing them. Too feel the power that you grasped in your hand and in the spirit of your mind.

Draco reveled in the burn of the water, knowing that it wouldn't really hurt him, just leave a slightly painful sting. He submerged himself, despite the screams of protest from every pore in his body, he sat like that, surrounded by the scalding water, to think. What were his parents doing at that very moment? Crying? Hiding from dementors? Or wondering about their only son? He pictured, with some amusement, his parents faces realizing that he was awaiting the infamous 'Loony' Lovegood's company. He realized that he didn't really care though, and he just wanted somebody to come by. Even Potter himself, perhaps, being on the other end of insults and yells was much better than living in silence and isolation. And then he heard it, a simple, clean knock, followed by the sound of his doorbell echoing around the house.

He hopped out so quickly he hit his head on the wall. He winced, and then pulled on his trousers and buttoned up his shirt without even drying himself, his bleach blond hair laying flat on his head, dripping onto his white shirt, making patches of his skin visible. And then, he sprinted down the stairs, trying not to slip on the hardwood surface.

"Hi," he said to Luna, who was standing next to Quibby near the door.

"Oh, Hello!" she smiled, and he became a little bit happier. "Quibby told me you were in the bath, I didn't mean to disturb you."

He shook his head, "No, it's fine, I was about to get out anyways," he lied.

She nodded, her smile dissolved as she looked at his chest. His hair had soaked his shirt, making it stick to the contours in his chest. He felt blood go to his face at the idea she was 'looking' but then, the blush just intensified when he saw that this assumption was wrong. "You're skinny," she said. "And you're tired."

He shrugged, trying to lie. But unfortunately, lying went under the category of socialization, which meant that he wasn't the best at it. "I've always been lightweight. And it's just those wierd things in my head I bet," he hesitated, knowing he was about to tell her more about his dreams. He found that telling the truth was much easier than lying. "I... well, I've been having the strange dreams still."

She looked at him suspiciously. "There's something in your head alright." And then she smiled, although he thought there wasn't the same spirit that she had shown in her other smiles before, "Regardless, there are Glarfull Blasters in here, so we need to tie this somewhere." Draco then noticed the very strange looking weed in her hand. It looked something like an upside-down Christmas tree, with tentacle like growths coming from the 'trunk' of it, and framing the body. It was larger than he had expected, but once again, he didn't really know what he had expected.

He looked at her, than at the weed, wondering why in the world he had encouraged her to bring the thing into his house... And then he remembered that he didn't want her to know that he had been crying. Ah. And he wanted her to come back. He kicked himself at this as she produced a rope and fastened the herb to the ceiling of the entrance way.

He gave her a look, "Can't we put it anywhere else?" he asked.

She shook her head, "It needs to be near the entrance."

He shrugged. It wasn't like anybody else was going to see it other than himself and her. And then it struck him, _is she coming back?_ A moment of panic rose in his throat, but then died when she spoke.

"You're _very_ skinny," she was looking at him suspiciously again. Luna Lovegood seemed to have gone through her own changes since the last time he saw her. No longer did she automatically believe people and blame it on something that was unexplainable and probably not real. She had learned her lesson after the torture she had gone through because of his aunt. And then Draco felt ashamed of his family again. How could anyone hurt a girl like this? She was so fragile and small, like if he just touched her hand it would break.

Luna was different now.

He inwardly smirked, throwing a glance at the large and obstructive weed hanging from his ceiling, _not that much different._

And then Luna grabbed his arm. Her hands were cold against his still-red skin, and the contact made his spine shiver a little bit, and his stomach tighten. "You're also red," she said, prodding a finger into his forearm, to see her print fade to his normal skin color, and back to red.

Her eyes stayed narrow and then she spoke, projecting her voice to the kitchen, "Yes, Draco, I would love to stay for lunch!"

He jumped a little bit at this statement. She called him _Draco_?! _Draco_! But for some reason he was more excited by this than aggravated. He couldn't decide if it was because it was the first time he had heard his first name spoken by somebody that he didn't want to strangle in what seemed like forever, or because of the particular person. But then he remembered what exactly she had said, "What? Did I invite you to stay?!"

She nodded, smiling again, "Yes, you did. You don't remember?"

He eyed her, annoyed by the gleam in her eyes.

"Anyways, you should probably be getting to the kitchen to tell the house elves that they need to prepare a meal for two," and then she walked a few steps. After she was a yard away from him, she turned back around, "I mean, they were surely prepared for one meal already, right?"

He glared at her. _How_ was she getting all this information? Sure, he was thin, but she could really only _assume_ he wasn't eating... Why was she so confident? "Where are you going?" he snapped, fully aware of the coldness in his voice.

Even though he had spoken to her sharply (and that was one ability that he had not lost over his year of isolation) she didn't flinch at all as she stepped gracefully towards the stairs, "Bathroom," she said, in an almost teasing voice.

"There's one downstairs," he said bluntly.

She smiled, "I know," she said, and almost danced up the stairs.

_What is she up to?_ Stubbornly, he growled and made his way to the kitchen as she requested, and the house elves had heard of the 'invitation' that Luna recieved, and had started preparing two meals.

Luna sat down across from Draco merely minutes after her trip to the 'bathroom' with an oddly red right hand.

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"Looks like they've out done themselves," said Luna, as a very elaborate meal was set in front of them.

Draco growled in agreement, aggravated with the elves and with Luna. He started picking at the food with his fork, but had no appetite.

"So," said Luna, "What have you been up to for the past year?"

He looked at her confusedly. That certainly seemed to be an odd question, to him. Or perhaps the answer was the only odd part. "Nothing."

She cocked her head to the side, taking a bite of food and not removing eye-contact.

He looked down at his plate, re-arranging the food, hoping that it looked like he had eaten something.

"You don't have a job?" she asked.

He snorted, "Not like anybody would be interested in hiring me."

She cocked her head to the side, "I'm sure my father would."

Draco let out a bark of a laugh, "What would I be doing for him? Herding up Crumple Horned-Snorknacks or whatever the bloody hell those things are?" He gulped after realizing what he had just said. He didn't want to chase off his only company. He muttered a quiet and muffled apology, eyes fixed on his plate, but after a moment of silence, he decided he needed to look at her. He had expected her to look offended, or even angry, but instead he saw an amused expression sported on her permanantly-suprised face.

She smiled, studying him. "You don't believe a word of it, do you?"

He hesitated, "Honestly, I think its all a load of bullocks..."

She nodded, still smiling mistily, "And yet you deal with me," she said. "Why's that?"

He poked a tomato with his fork.

"You're lonely," she said, "Aren't you?"

This time he stabbed the tomato, sending seeds and juice all over the plate, probably scratching the ceramic surface with it's prongs.

She nodded, though he wasn't looking at her. He was still staring at his plate, attacking various vegetables with his cutlery. "I thought that was why you let me in yesterday," she smiled. "I think you would have let almost anybody in."

She gave him a moment, studying his angry expression and his pointed face.

"Even Harry Potter."

He froze. That was almost his exact thought process.

She smiled again. She did that a lot. "Who would have thought that the ruthless, pitiless, and brilliant Draco Malfoy would be accepting any straggler into his home just for a conversation."

He set the fork down and glared at her, but she continued talking, unphased by this. "But everything you've said wasn't a lie."

He kept glaring.

"You _have_ been having dreams," she said, her eyes locked on his. "Haven't you?"

He sucked in a breath of surprise at her intuition. He knew that she must've picked up a trick or two from the 'D.A,' or whatever that defense group was, about detecting lies, but to be able to decipher that much... But then, he decided, it didn't take Dumbledore to see that he was lonely. But to know he was dreaming?

Her expression remained lighthearted as she looked at his plate and then his face, "You really should eat something."

And she sat there until he ate every bite.

* * *

Luna returned again the next day. Draco couldn't decide if he wanted her to or not. She was bearable, and she was company, though, so he decided to allow it, even though she made it clear she was returning whether he wanted it or not.

When he answered the door, he noticed that the head band was back, but once again decided that he shouldn't ask. They sat down in the east room, staring out the window.

"What happened to your curtain?" she asked casually.

He shrugged, the gesture becoming much more natural after it's excessive use over the past few days. "Ripped it the other day accidentally."

Right on the beat, without hesitation, she responded, "Why didn't you fix it?"

He glared at her and then walked towards it. He gripped his wand, worried that he was going to make a fool of himself- magic didn't come as naturally as it used to. Hand shaking a little, he pointed to the damaged curtain with his new, sleek, wand and muttered _Reparo_ under his breath.

The fabric limply repaired itself, but weakly, held together by wide stitches, and creasing in the wrong places, like a semi-disastrous sewing project. He grimaced, and was surprised to see that Luna was standing next to him. She was a great deal shorter than him, he noticed. The top of her head standing at his shoulders.

"So there _is_ something in your head," she whispered.

"What?"

And with one swift motion (that made Draco oddly angry) she repaired the curtain back to its normal and glamorous state. "I said there's something in your head."

He gave her a look, "You mean other than the thing I have a Christmas tree hanging upside down from my entry way for?"

She nodded, "I think it's simpler than that," she said. And then she pointed her wand at his forehead and everything went black.

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**AN: What do you think? Because I seriously want to know. Click the shiny review button and write what you think!**

**This is a bit more of a cliffhanger, methinks...  
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	3. Dreams and Thanks

**AN: So, yeah, last chappie :) Unless I am convinced otherwise to write an epilouge. And if that is requested, I would be happy to do so.**

**Disclaimer: All belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just stealing it for a day.  
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_Review: "I said there's something in your head."_

_He gave her a look, "You mean other than the thing I have a Christmas tree hanging upside down from my entry way for?"_

_She nodded, "I think it's simpler than that," she said. And then she pointed her wand at his forehead and everything went black._

* * *

Draco awoke from the most horrifying dream he had ever had. He sat up, sweating and muttering words of protest, but no words could get rid of the torturing images that were flashing in front of his disoriented eyes. His head was hurting and he was dizzy, unable to recognize his surroundings as he screamed out loud in protest to whatever was beating at the insides of his cranium. He collapsed back on the bed, clutching the sides of his forehead in pain and confusion.

"Oh," she smiled, "You're awake."

He wasn't quite sure who _she_ was, but she was familiar to him, and her voice was comforting. He had a sense of companionship associated with it... a familiarity. He was happy that she was there, but for some reason had an underlying furiousity with her. She had caused this, he knew it.

His only response to her was heavy breathing, and wiping the sweat from his forehead. And then another scream. He threw the covers off of him, and rushed to the sink, but Luna beat him there. She dampened a cloth. He ignored her and threw his head over the toilet and vomited. She gasped as he fell to the floor again. He couldn't see her clearly as she put the cloth to his face and levitated him back to the bed. She raised her wand to his forehead again, but this time- remembering what happened after she did that before- he hit her wand away, still hurting all over. Luna sighed and retrieved her wand.

"Sorry, Draco," she muttered a little guiltily, "_Petrificus Totalus._"

His arms snapped to his sides, his legs snapped together and his whole body became as straight as a board. If he could have, he would have scowled at her, or yelled at her, but instead, he just shot her the most menacing glare that he could manage without moving any facial muscles.

She sighed again, not smiling this time. "I'm going to explain to you what I am about to do." She hesitated, "Before, I made you dream using _Mindto Somnius_, and I know that wasn't a very pleasant experience," she winced a little with what he thought was guilt. "Now, I'm going to make your head stop hurting. It's normal for it to hurt after awaking from a spell induced dream. It's also normal to have..." she looked at the bathroom, and then back at him, "nausea. Anyways, this will relax your muscles and should stop your head from hurting. You may get a bit drowsy, but you shouldn't fall asleep. Although, from what I gather, sleep isn't something you do regularly, or well, so the effects might be a bit stronger."

He hated her in that moment. Oh how he wished he could spit out all those insults that he had used against her over and over during their schooling. But unfortunately, she had him completely disabled.

She lowered her wand to his forehead and whispered, "_Relaxo Valeo_."

Instantly, Draco felt relief hit him much like a wave of cool water. Before muttering the spell she must've also said the counter curse for _Petrificus Totalus _because his body loosened and fell relaxed into his mattress, his head clear. He smiled a little- he hadn't felt so at rest since... well, ever. His anger had disappeared with the spell, and he wondered if she had used some sort of anti-fury spell, but he didn't care.

"There," she said. "Anyways, Quibby said she'd bring up some soup for you."

He simply nodded, realizing that he was actually quite hungry.

"Am I going to have to force-feed you again?" she asked, with a slightly amused tone in her voice.

He shook his head as he pushed himself up to lean against the headboard of the bed.

"Good," she said. And then they sat in a rather awkward silence until one of the house elves brought up two bowls of soup. Luna politely consumed it, while Draco rather barbarically drained his.

* * *

"So, why do you take such hot baths?" Luna asked, reclining in one of the velvet upholstered chairs in the west lounge. She had been coming over regularly, not every day, but the majority of the week days she would show up. She would check on him, or just come over for the sake of conversing. Sometimes he wondered if she just came around to find out what had driven him into anti-social insanity, or if she really cared, but either way, he enjoyed their relationship.

He looked at her strangely, attempting to fake confusion,"What?"

She smiled, "Don't hide it."

He shrugged, still aggravated with her intuition. "They're comfortable," he lied, but even though he'd had regular human contact as of late, lying didn't come as easily as it used to.

"I didn't know that boiling water made such a good bath..." she said, staring off into space in her normal airy way with an awkwardly subtle form of sarcasm.

He flinched.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a minute or two, staring out the expansive window, appreciating the setting sun.

Luna stood up, and then sat down next to Draco, blushing a little and hesitating before speaking. She picked at the hem of her multi-layered skirt, with her feet tucked in together nervously. He watched her curiously as she chewed her bottom lip and threw anxious glances in his direction. _Why in the world is she nervous? She knows I'm not going to hurt her..._ "Um," she said, hesitating again. Draco had never seen her this way. She dropped her skirt and turned to face him. "Your dreams," she began, "They've been about _him_ haven't they?"

His eyes went wide.

She continued, "It's- well, I don't mean to... I mean..." she breathed heavily, looking away. "Tell me about them," she whispered hurriedly.

He took in a breath at this, surprised. "Um," he said.

"Please, Draco," she whispered, "I want to know..."

"You _want_ to know?!" he snapped, pulling his body away from hers, "You _want_ to know?! You _want_ me to spill my most regretted moments in my life?! You _want_ that?!" He stood up pacing as he yelled, though he was unsure as to who his reprimanding was directed- himself or Luna. "You _want_ to hear about how I tortured and killed so many innocent people and how I wake up every night with the Dark Lord's eyes bore into mine? You really want to hear all that?"

She gasped at his actions, pulling her legs closer to her torso in a way like she expected him to strike her. He continued ranting, tears fighting their ways down his cheeks and burning his blood-shot eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What?" he snapped, pivoting on his right foot to face her.

"I'm sorry," she said more clearly. "I just wanted to know. You don't have to tell me."

He sighed, the crying persisting. He sat down on the couch again next to her, his head in his hands. A couple times Luna almost patted him on the back, but then decided that he was better left alone.

When he spoke, she jumped a little. "I'm torturing them," he sniffed. "Sometimes I hear myself yelling the spell, other times I just see their faces or hear them screaming.... I'm always happy though. I always feel so powerful. That's the disturbing part... And then, sometimes he's there. Staring at me," he breathed heavily. "Or he's torturing me. And it feels so real," his voice cracked due to tears, and he suppressed a sob as he continued. "And then other times, I see myself in the mirror, and I have his eyes. I'm him... and it terrifies me... It's like, I was him, allowing him to... to order me around and do his bidding, just because I'm such a bloody coward..." he breathed heavily, "And even when I knew it was wrong, I laughed when they fell to the ground dead, or when they begged me to stop. I reveled in it... I loved it..."

"I don't think you're a coward," she said quietly, as though her speaking would send him off on another rampage.

He sniffed, "Then you're wrong."

They sat in silence and in tears as they reflected what he had just said. And then as his breathing steadied and Luna's heart rate calmed, she spoke again, bracing herself for more screams.

"Can- can I see it?" she whispered.

He looked at her strangely.

Luna hesitated again, and then wrapped her arms around him, pulling herself into his lap and buried in his neck. "Please? Let me see it."

He swallowed, his throat dry and his eyes beginning to burn again. "See what?" he whispered, even though he knew exactly what she meant.

Draco realized that she was crying when she pulled away from him, and looked into his eyes, "The Dark Mark," she whispered. "Please. I need to see it."

He breathed, slightly horrified by the request. Why would somebody want to examine the most hated part of him? The stage in his life that he regretted so much, but had branded on his body forever for all to see? Why?

Luna's hands were shaking as she found the edges of his sleeve, and she slowly pushed it up his pale arm. He looked away, not wanting to see it, not wanting to see her expression when she saw the proof that he was responsible for so many of her friends' deaths and tortures. That his family was indeed the family that captured and tortured her. That if they didn't exist, Luna would not have had to go through all the suffering and fighting that she did. He heard her slight intake of breath as she saw it, so real and alive. He thought that she would start screaming or yelling at him for what an awful person that he was. Extremely hesitantly he turned to face her. She was staring at the mark, her permanently wide eyes even wider. She let out a slight whimper. He felt her tears landing on his arm as she lowered her face to it. Draco's heart skipped a beat as she placed her lips onto the Dark Mark.

_And then the fire was put out._

He kept crying, wanting to pull her into his arms and tell her that none of it was true, but she knew that it was, and so did he. She sat back up, and looked away from him.

"It's getting late," she said, her voice sounding slightly more empty.

He nodded. "You should probably be getting back to your father."

She let out a forced laugh, wiping away the dampness on her face with her sleeve, "And expect you to get yourself to bed? Not a chance."

He pulled his sleeve down, wishing that their tears could wash the horrible mark away. "Oh."

She got up, the usual strong Luna back with almost complete energy. "But first there's something that I want to try."

He shot her a surprised look.

She laughed, and brought a hand to the blue curtain, tearing the fabric. "Oops..." And then she looked at him.

Hesitantly he stood up, his steps unsteady. "_Reparo._"

And the silk fabric remade itself flawlessly, hanging just as beautifully and as elegantly as it had before it's abuse.

He smiled with pleasant surprise, looking at the wand that he grasped in his hand. His grip was natural again... He turned around casting cleaning charms on the ornaments in the room, and much to his delight, the dust and scratches all disappeared. He smiled at the ebony wand in his hand, and then at Luna as he replaced it in his pocket.

She cocked her head to the side, "You still need to gain weight."

He groaned, "Not this again..."

"Hmm..." she said looking at him suspiciously. "You're spared from the lecture for now, but not forever. There's still something that I want to try."

He was confused as ever as she deliberately stepped up against his chest. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her waist. She pressed her lips against his, snaking her arms up to the back of his neck. He kissed her back, suddenly overwhelmed by his affection for her as he tried to bring her closer.

She parted from him, smiling.

He kissed her forehead.

"So, did you find whatever that thing was in my head?"

"I sure did," Luna said.

"So what was it?" Draco asked.

"You," she whispered, and let him hold her for a while.

"I probably should be getting home though." she said.

He cleared his voice, awkwardly. "Well," he whispered, "You don't have to if you don't want to."

She smiled and buried her face into his neck again.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"For everything."

_finis._

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**AN: Yaaay :)**

**REVIEWREVIEWREVIEW! Anyways, I definitely had an alternate ending completely ready to write, but I decided I wasn't in the mood for a depressing story... although, if I ever get around to writing an epilogue, I will most definitely consider posting the sad ending too.**

**SO REVIEW. PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU.  
**

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